


Predictable

by nasod



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, nothing nice lasts. no nice things in my house., they are friendly (for a little)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 13:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15120527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasod/pseuds/nasod
Summary: You placed a little bit too much faith in yourself, or maybe a little bit too much faith in him. Maybe fate is just destined to take its course.Does it really matter which it is? The ending is the same anyways.





	Predictable

**Author's Note:**

> second person is fun yayay!!  
> the "you" in this story is eve, and the "he" is add! one of them, anyways.  
> this idea came to me randomly and i wrote it on a whim! i hope you enjoy it!

You already knew this end was coming.  
  
You should have known from the very first time you saw him, but time has made you soft, and so you foolishly tried anyways.  
  
When he stumbled upon your group, seemingly confused, you immediately recognized him—and so did the others. The slightly messy white hair, the thin and vaguely sickly frame, the strange eyepatch he refused to take off, and the hostile way he looked at you and your companions. You knew him, once, so this time, you knew. He was not from around here. He was from another time, another place, far away and possibly very different from your own.  
  
Who knew what kind of world he had escaped from. Perhaps it was destroyed.  
  
But his circumstances of being there did not concern you, not in the way that his simply being there did. It had been a long, long time since you had seen him like that. A couple inches shorter. More stable, less mysterious. It was a bit of a shock, since the last time you had seen him was a distant threat.  
  
Seeing him like this once more made you think.  
  
Perhaps, if you were different now, you could set him down a different path. Yes, this miracle of the same boy (well, not quite, but still) appearing before you for the first time twice was your second chance at making things right.  
  
While the first one had been on the receiving end of a rougher style of treatment from you, this one was surprised by your kindness. Of course, you were still stern, because such things were in your nature, and some level of toughness was required in handling such a person. Rena’s always-delicate, always-motherly policy didn’t work. He forced it away with both hands.  
  
He was shocked by your desire to spend time with him. But of course, he never declined you, because he was interested in you, just like the last one. He asked many questions, many of them you’ve heard before.  
  
You answered them patiently, instead of telling him to mind his own business again.  
  
Most of them.  
  
You and the others all tried not to let him realize that he wasn’t the first him that you’ve met, but he once grew skeptical of you, when you said something that seemed to hit a little too close to home in regards to his plans that he didn’t tell you. But the other one did.  
  
Sometimes it was so hard to separate them. It was impossible to see the second and not think of the first.  
  
Over time, he did soften. It delighted you, but of course, you didn’t show it. It was much better than last time, certainly. While neither of you would dare say it, he almost became something like a friend to you.  
  
He and you did many things.  
  
Late one night, he confided in you, looking at the stars and speaking very briefly of “home.” You did the same.  
In a way, you both wanted to return to the past.  
  
He gave you flowers on the anniversary of your activation date, and you gave him chocolate on his birthday, despite the fact that he hadn’t told you what day it was.  
He raised an eyebrow when you did so, but he accepted the gift regardless. You knew he loved sweets.  
  
It was peaceful.  
  
And like all peaceful things, it didn’t last.  
  
Just like the first one, he got worse again.  
  
He disappeared for days at a time.  
  
He left you a scribbled note, reading “i’ll be back for you.”  
  
You didn’t see him for a very long time, and in that, you already knew you failed.  
  
Perhaps such things were inevitable—when someone cared so deeply about something, you couldn’t change it so easily. Could she have been swayed from her driving motivation, simply by some outside intervention over a time period that didn’t even quite reach to be a full year? By an object?  
  
But the thought still made you sad.  
  
You didn’t like your failure.  
  
You didn’t like thinking about it.  
  
You didn’t like how it came back to you.  
  
You didn’t like it when it forced you to look it in the eyes, and it smiled at you.  
  
You didn’t like its voice when it told you, softly, “I’m back.”  
  
You didn’t like the way it tore you apart, haphazardly, laughing all the while.  
  
You didn’t like the way it reached out once you were down, a predator ready for the kill, with no one around to ward it off this time.  
  
But you had to accept your failure. Even if looking at it hurt.  
  
It laughed again. Its fingers brushed against your core.  
  
You closed your eyes.  
  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  



End file.
